


Tears of Anger

by orphan_account



Series: Blood. Family. Loyalty. [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family, Childhood Trauma, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Drama, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Hogwarts Inter-House Rivalries, Malfoy Family, Original Character-centric, POV Original Character, POV Third Person Limited, Prisoner of Azkaban, Slytherin Pride, Teenage Drama, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 04:43:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12880413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: She was a Malfoy.She was a Black.She was Draco's sister.She didn't want to feel so conflicted.When she first came to Hogwarts, Clarisse Black thought it would all be as her brother told her, that she would meet new friends, learn new things, and have the time of her life alongside him. A break from all the drama and troubles of their family life seemed almost like a dream come true.Until it all came crashing down.





	1. Little Sister

**Author's Note:**

> First published work.  
> Please feel free to comment on any mistakes I make.  
> Hope you enjoy.

He thought he saw her flinch – though only for a split second – but when he looked again, there she was… standing straight, almost an inch shorter than all the rest of the kids in line. She looked so young and frail to him in the moment. Draco wanted to snort. Did his little sister really think that putting up a brave facade was enough to fool him?  
He looked from her back to McGonagall holding up the parchment. In a moment, his little sister would be called forward and Draco was certain whatever anxieties she was holding back would come crashing into her like a violent wave.  
She was brave, yes – maybe too much for his own taste, a constant, unpleasant reminder that she was not his sister by blood – but she was also intelligent, cunning, always finding ways around every problem, she had ambition, once even confiding in him that she wanted to be Minister for Magic when she grew up, make Father proud of her.  
Draco forced a smile on his face. She’d be placed in Slytherin, he knew it. She had to be. Every child born to the Malfoy family had been placed in Slytherin since they first came to England, and Clare, despite not bearing the name like him, was a Malfoy.  
“Black, Clarisse!” called McGonagall.  
Draco stiffened as he watched his sister step forward, what little colour she had completely drained from her face, but that stubborn look still firmly plastered all across.  
Pansy placed a hand atop his, “Are you all right, Draco?” she asked with a worried look.  
Draco just huffed, “Of course I am,” he said, “I just want it all to be over so she can come join us at the table and we can enjoy the feast.”  
The others at the table looked anything but convinced.  
Draco turned to look at Clare again. She was still sitting in the stool, her hands gripping the edges for dear life.  
He almost felt like holding his breath, thinking she was taking long – too long.  
She was going to be placed in Slytherin. She had to be. Father wouldn’t have it any other way, he’d warned her about it, Draco knew – he’d been eavesdropping.  
What was taking her so long?  
Draco felt his heart beating against his chest as he watched her sit there, unmoving. He couldn’t see her face – he could only imagine what was going through her head. He hoped it wasn’t fear.  
The rip near the brim of the hat opened.  
Draco held his breath.  
“SLYTHERIN!” the Sorting Hat shouted to the hall.  
All the air came rushing out of him in a wave of relief as the table erupted in applause and cheers.  
McGonagall took off the Sorting Hat from her head and Draco could see her face at last, the same look of relief as his also plastered across hers.  
“Welcome to Slytherin,” Blaise stood up from his seat to shake her hand when she got to the table.  
Draco scoffed, “Don’t think I’ll let you near my sister, Zabini,” he told the other boy.  
The others laughed.  
Clare turned a pale pink and chuckled as well, “Hello, brother,” she said, sitting down next to him on the seat Theodore had been kind enough to offer her.  
“Sister,” Draco nodded.  
That was all the introduction they needed, then they both turned back around and looked up at the line of students still waiting to be sorted into their houses.  
He felt joy, truly, not only because Clare was out of any danger now, but because he got to share the next six years of his Hogwarts career with her. It would be just like when they were kids, he thought, almost mindlessly placing his arm around her tiny shoulders.  
He didn’t see it, but he knew she was smiling to herself, probably thinking the same thing.


	2. Won't Talk About It

September came, and summer felt like a pleasant dream soon to be forgotten in favour of the tedious nightmare that was going back to Hogwarts.  
“You’re lucky,” said Clare as the two of them stepped into the platform, “You get to go to Hogsmeade this year while I have to stay back and hang out with the first years.”  
Draco chuckled but said nothing.  
“Don’t forget to write home this time, darling,” Aunt Narcissa mentioned.  
Clare looked somewhat apologetically at her, “Sorry, I’ll try and write every week, I promise.”  
“Malfoys never break a promise,” Uncle Lucius said solemnly, “Not unless its beneficial to them,” he added with an almost imperceptible wink.  
Aunt Narcissa showed no sign of response as she turned to look at Draco, “Did you remember to pack everything, my darling?” she asked.  
“Well, it’s not like I’d remember if I didn’t,” answered Draco with heavy sarcasm.  
Uncle Lucius glared at him, “Watch that tone,” he warned him.  
Draco lowered his head, “I’m sorry, Father.”  
“Oh, don’t be so controlling, Lucius,” said Narcissa. She turned back to Draco, “Make sure to write home if anything is missing from your trunk – what with that blasted house elf running off,” her beautiful face turned into a grimace, “It’s all been rathet chaotic. I wouldn’t put it past any of us to be misplacing or forgetting things everywhere,” she said.  
Uncle Lucius looked about ready to disagree, but he kept quiet about it and instead looked away. “There goes that cursed family,” he mentioned with disdain.  
They all turned to look at where he was looking and saw exactly what he was referring to.  
A rather large group of wizards was gathered not too far from where they stood. Most – with the exception of two – red haired and wearing what could only be described as disastrous attires.  
Aunt Narcissa made a noise close to a snort, “Leave them be, Lucius,” she said, “They’re not worth wasting time on.” She placed a delicate hand on his chest.  
Clare could see where this was going. Uncle Lucius had that look on his face that spelled nothing but trouble. All summer he’d spent breaking into constant rants about those cursed Weasleys, that self serving Potter, and good for nothing mudblood Granger – he had pent up anger he wanted to let out and frankly, Clare had seen one too many of his rage fits to know she didn’t want to be anywhere close to him when it broke out.  
“We should start loading our things on the train,” Draco told her, almost as if he read her mind, “Leave these two to sort each other out,” he added in a whisper.  
Clare had just started pushing forward her trolley when a hand grabbed her shoulder and stopped her right in her tracks.  
She turned her head around.  
Uncle Lucius had a stern look on his pale face. His hand didn’t release her shoulder as he spoke, “I’ve spoken with Severus on the manner,” he said. Her eyebrows furrowed and she got ready to argue but the light squeezing of his hand stopped her once more, “I told him that under no circumstance must he give out any sort of special treatment or overlook improper behaviour from your part.”  
“I would never behave…”  
“Your aunt and I expect you to maintain your composure.”  
Clare looked past him to where Aunt Narcissa was standing with her back to them. She was no legilimens, but she was sure right now that her aunt was struggling to maintain her usually composed demeanor. “I know,” was all Clare said, “I wouldn’t think anything different,” she looked at her uncle straight in the eye, “And I told you already,” his hand squeezed harder at her tone of voice, “I have no reason to be upset about anything.”  
He swallowed hard, “I sure hope so,” he said and released her shoulder.  
With a final nod, Clare turned her head around. Draco was standing a few feet away still. The look on his face a mixture of curiosity and worry.  
She pushed her trolley past him.

*****

“So, Clarisse,” Daphne spoke up.  
Clare looked up from the (much more interesting) golden telescope Astoria had been showing her to see Daphne sitting – arms crossed and a smug look on her elegant but not quite pretty face – right on Theodore’s lap.  
The Hogwarts Express didn’t boast awfully spacious compartments for their students to hang out in, and yet, Draco and his friends always found a way to pack more people than was comfortabe in them – which was why Clare and Astoria, the youngest and least privileged of the bunch, were currently sitting on the floor, being treated to the frankly annoying sights of their older siblings.  
“You’ve been awfully quiet since we took off,” Daphne commented, “What’s got you so tongue tied?”  
Clare had been anything but quiet since the train had taken off from the platform. On the contrary, she’d spent the entire journey so far talking nonstop with Astoria about their respective holidays.  
But that was not what Daphne was referring to…  
Clare frowned. Through the corner of her eye she could see Draco stiffen in his seat. “Tongue tied?”  
“Well, you’ve hardly said anything about the news.”  
“Why would I discuss the news?” Clare asked with an annoyed look on her face, “I’m not a middle aged witch nor do I have any interest in what the Weird Sisters are up to lately.”  
“We’re all friends here, aren’t we?” Daphne said, putting on the sweetest (fake) smile she could.  
Clare could see Astoria getting nervous. She was a quiet kid, unlike her sister. Confrontations weren’t her thing.  
Everyone in the compartment – save for Crabbe and Goyle – was looking at the two of them now.  
Draco looked displeased.  
Clare huffed, “I don’t see why I should discuss anything with you if I don’t feel like it,” she said.  
“Oh, don’t be like that, Clare. We’re all Slytherins here, we have to stick out for each other, or else who’s gonna do it?”  
Clare. She’d called her Clare, “First off, it’s Clarisse,” she corrected, “And second, there’s absolutely nothing to discuss, so stop asking about it.”  
“Oh, but I’m sure you must be upset in some way,” she pressed on, “I mean it’s not every day your murderous father gets loose from the safest prison in Britain.”  
“I’m not!” her control over her tone slipped for a second, “Let it go, Daphne – nobody cares that Black escaped Azkaban anymore.”  
“I just don’t want to see you bottling your feelings up. You could end up like your poor mother, locked up in that horrible room full of – ”  
Draco shot to his feet – but he wasn’t any faster than Clare. She pulled out her wand from the back of her jeans and pointed it straight at the witch’s face in less than it took him to call out, “Clare, don’t!”, calling to memory an obscure spell she’d been taught by an older Slytherin last year.  
“Adolebitque!” she shouted.  
Bright yellow sparks shot out of the tip of her wand as the spell soared through the compartment like lighting, landing straight in the middle of Daphne’s face.  
Thr scream that followed was so loud almost half the train was crowded outside their compartment door in less than half a minute.  
Chaos broke out.  
Blood dripped everywhere.  
“YOU BITCH!” Daphne screamed as she clutched her blistering face.  
Crabbe and Goyle had been startled out of their trance like state and were now clumsily trying to help Daphne, their chocolate frog cards strewn all over the compartment floor. Their big, rough hands were doing little to keep Daphne from scratching at what was left of her burning skin.  
“In the name of Merlin! What have you done, Clarisse?!” Pansy shouted as she shot to her feet and pushed the two idiots’ hands out of the way to try and peel Daphne’s own away from her face.  
“She provoked me!” Clare shouted defensively.  
“She was being petty, there was no need to burn her face off!” Theodore shouted, “Stop screaming, Daphne!”  
But the witch kept howling in pain and, Clare supposed, despair now that her favourite feature was at least temporarily ruined. Theodore and Blaise tried to hold her down so Pansy could take a look at the damage but Daphne was having none of it.  
“It burns!” she howled, “It burns!”  
A pool of blood, mixed with melted globs of skin, was forming on the floor beneath Daphne.  
Astoria was speechless next to Clare, her eyes wide open and her lips parted in a look of utter shock.  
Draco was speechless as well, his face not quite as worried as it should have been, perhaps, though. He shot her a look.  
Clare tried to hide her smirk from him. She was in big trouble and she knew.  
“Make way! Make way! I’m coming through!” came the voice of an older man outside the compartment.  
There was a slight conmotion outside the compartment as the students all made way for the conductor to come through.  
“Merlin’s beard!” exclaimed the conductor when he saw the scene in front of him. He drew a hand to grab what little hair was left on his head, “What on earth happened in here?”  
“Nothing!” Draco quickly replied.  
“IT WAS HER!” cried Daphne with a finger pointed at Clare, “SHE DID IT! SHE DID THIS TO ME!”  
“Calm down, Daphne!” Blaise pleaded with her.  
“MY FACE IS FALLING OFF!” she screamed at his face.  
The elderly man’s eyes went wide as balloons, “All right, all right – everybody go back to their compartments!” he turned around and tried to usher people away from the door, “There’s nothing to see here.”  
Meanwhile, Daphne started bawling her eyes out.  
Nobody moved from the door.  
“It’s all right, Daph,” Pansy reassured her, “We’ll get to the castle and Madam Pomfrey will have you good as new in no time.”  
“Come, come,” the conductor pushed his way toward her – caring little about who he stepped on or where he held on for support – and grabbed Daphne by the arm, “I have a first aid kit in the cabin.”  
“That’s not gonna help!” cried Daphne.  
“I’m sure there’s something in there for you.”  
“No!”  
“Come on, Daph,” said Pansy, “I’ll go with.”  
“Did I not tell you all to go back to your compartments?!”  
They left, and with them, any sense of triumph Clare might have felt after her deed.  
“You’re screwed,” Theodore said.

*****

Clare sat down across the desk from Snape and gulped.  
“Do I need to explain to you the severity of your situation?”  
“No.”  
“Do you know the precarious thread you’re hanging from?”  
“Yes.”  
“Who taught you that spell?”  
Yaxley, a boy who no longer studied at Hogwarts due to being expelled for… questionable behaviour.  
Clare kept her eyes on Snape, “I read it in a book.”  
“We don’t give books on dark magic to first year students.”  
“I didn’t read it in the library.”  
“So where did you?”  
“I dunno!” she made a motion like she was going to stand up.  
“Sit down!” Snape hissed at her.  
Clare remained motionless in her chair. Her heart was pounding against her chest, sweat was pooling in her forehead.  
“You’re lucky you weren’t expelled,” Snape went on, “The girl’s parents have been sent an owl.”  
“She’s gonna be fine – ”  
“I didn’t say you could speak,” he cut her off, “You’re on detention – every day after class, I want you in my office, no attitude, until I see an improvement in yout behaviour – and there’s no room for protests,” he glared at her.  
Clare glared right back.  
Snape’s right eyebrows shot up and he crossed his arms, “Add to your detention fifty points from Slytherin.”  
Her eyes went wide, “Fif – ” she couldn’t evrn get the words out. Fifty points?! No Slytherin had ever lost fifty points. No Slytherin had ever lost any points on the first day at school.  
Uncle Lucius was going to kill her.  
The Slytherins were going to kill.  
Snape had just signed her death sentence. There was no way her social status would stand after this. She was screwed for the rest of the year at least.  
“Perhaps that will make you think twice about giving into your impulses next time.”  
“You – ”  
“I am the head of your house, Slytherin if I may remind you, and a teacher at this school, and I expect you to adress me accordingly, is that clear Miss Black?”  
“Yes, sir!” she snapped at him, “May I leave now?”  
“You may,” he dismissed her and stood up from his desk. “I’ll be expecting you tomorrow at five, on time, and no attitude.”  
Clare rose to her feet. She turned around without another word and marched right out of the office.  
“Stupid Daphne…” she muttered under her breath.  
The corridors were empty. Not a single soul, living or otherwise, around. Mostly everyone was at the Great Hall still.  
Clare was in no mood to stuff her face with food, however delicious it might be. She didn’t want to sit next to the judgmental faces of her house mates, or see the look on Astoria’s face, or be anywhere near when they all came out and saw the house point hourglass.  
She convinced herself that she was tired and that she needed rest and so instead of heading for the Great Hall, she made the much shorted trip into the all too familiar Slythering Common room.  
She would deal with everything tomorrow.


End file.
